


The Boy From The Dream

by backwardsties95



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-17 03:04:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1371559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backwardsties95/pseuds/backwardsties95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with a painting. A painting and a dream. Rivaille had dreams of a teal-eyed boy and Eren had dreams of stormy-gray eyes. One tried so hard to find the other and one found all information on the man. With a single touch, Eren could have floods of memories and nosebleeds. Mikasa and Armin doubt, but Eren believes with all his being that Rivaille is his and he is Rivaille's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**1869**

        Rivaille woke with a start. This was another night ever since he could remember his dreams that he has awoken from the dream of the boy. He had the most striking green eyes and the softest brown hair Rivaille thought it felt like according from his dreams. This boy has haunted the man’s dreams, always the same boy. Rivaille’s fingers twitched with the eagerness to paint.

Getting out of bed, he hurried over to his easel and shoved a canvas onto its ledge. With the image fading from his mind, Rivaille worked hard and fast to paint the smiling image of his beloved dream. He didn’t sleep for hours so he could finish his painting, capturing every freckle, scar and bump that would be on the boy’s face. His wife stirred in her sleep, arising to see him painting away.

“Levi, this again?” she groaned, slumping back on the bed.

He didn't answer.

“How many times are you going to do this?” she asked as she slid out of the bed. “This is the fourth time this week and it is only Monday!”

“You wouldn't understand, Petra.” He slapped more paint onto the canvas. “I have to finish this painting… before he leaves my head.”

“Rivaille, this is ridiculous. With that rambling, you are going to get us both killed,” she hissed at him. “You know that the town doesn’t take well to… people like you.”

Rivaille muttered, “Just have to finish this one.” He worked on the boy’s eyes when Petra gave up and went back to bed.

“Who is he anyway?” she asked. “I have never met him and I know I would’ve seen him around.”

“Someone I held dear, many lifetimes ago.”

That was the answer he always gave when people asked. He didn’t know who he was either, only that he was the one that Rivaille was supposed to have.

 

 

**2012**

        Eren Jaeger sat in his junior art class at Maria High School with his friend, Armin, by his side. He had a knack for art so he was drawing the same thing over and over again. It was a pair of intimidating yet kind eyes that he always saw in his dreams. Up until that day, he thought his mind just made them from his imagination.

“Now, our next painter is a man named Rivaille. He was twenty-five w-” the teacher cut off mid-sentence.

Eren felt a tap on his shoulder, driving his attention away from his doodles. He looked around to see every pair of eyes that belonged to his class was on him. “What?” Armin and his adoptive sister, Mikasa, looked at him with wide eyes. He turned to see a painting of himself from the board. The likeness was unbelievable. Every little freckle that was dusted upon Eren’s cheeks was on the picture him. The shade of the painting’s eyes was the same as Eren’s.

“Is this some sort of joke?” Eren asked, feeling like he is being made fun of.

“I-I-I…” the teacher stuttered, flipping through her notes. “This is impossible.”

She went through the presentation and pulled up a photo and painting of a man and a woman. One was the kind of photograph you normally seeing from that period in time, black and white and scratchy. The painting was color and depicted the couple in the same tone. The woman had blond hair that looked almost a light red with blue eyes that were filled with the need to go out and adventure only to be stuck in one place. The man was different. He looked at the camera and the painter with distaste, an almost bored look. There was more beyond the distaste; there was a longing. The man longed for something that he couldn’t have.

“C-class is dismissed,” said the teacher, falling in a chair as her mind tried to process the situation.

Eren gathered his things and ran out of the school. He wanted to know what the hell was going on with the painting, the man, and his dreams. He didn’t listen to Armin’s yells for his attention as Eren got into his car.

Armin stopped running after Eren as the black car sped from the high school parking lot. Mikasa walked up to his side and sighed.

“He just needs to get a grip on the situation,” she said. Her red scarf was wrapped around her neck like she always has since the fourth grade. “I wonder where he is going.”

“Home, probably,” replied Mikasa. “I’ll give you a ride. I don’t think he is going to come back here.”

 

 

        Eren yanked the chair away from the desk and sat down. He opened Google and looked up this Rivaille. He went through dozens of paintings of the same boy: Eren.

Apparently, Rivaille had been painting since he was a child and, even then, he was painting Eren. There was Eren as a child, Eren as a young man, Eren as an old man and Eren as a teenager. All these paintings made the junior how these things were even possible. After printing several of the paintings and articles analyzing the painter, Eren decided that he needed to find out about reincarnation and past lives to see if that is what was going on. He needed to know if it was even _possible_ to be reincarnated.

He spent hours going through books and websites and biographies on Rivaille until the library closed. He gathered his print-outs and the books, his mind swirling around with the information. He drove back to his home with his stomach empty and the need to find out the reason behind the paintings was growing. He pulls into his driveway to see Mikasa standing on the doorstep with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Where the hell were you, Eren?” she asked, taking his stuff from his arms.

Eren tried to get his things back, but when his attempts failed he gave up. “I went to the library. I needed to look up some stuff.”

“About that painter? Eren, don’t look into it too much.” They went into the home and she started to make him dinner. “It is just a coincidence.”

Eren gaped at his sister. “How the hell can that be a coincidence? It was me! There are paintings of _me_ from the eighteen hundreds, Mikasa. There is no way that is just some coincidence.”

She pushed a plate with two pieces of pizza in front the boy. She doesn’t say another word as he ate. Once he finished, he grabbed the stack of papers and slid one photograph after another to Mikasa. Just as he began to speak, there was a sharp pain in his head and he yelled out in pain.

“Eren?” Mikasa asked, looking at him with worry.

Eren yelled out again, the pain pounding in his head. Images flashed through of the painter. Rivaille was laughing in one memory and in another they were laying together with Rivaille was stroking Eren’s hair. These memories felt happy, but they were bringing pain.

“Eren, please! Tell me what is going on,” Mikasa demanded, trying to look at Eren’s face.

Eren screamed, falling to his knees and clutching his head. He leaned into Mikasa and cried as the memories came with the pain. After ten minutes of agonizing pain, the memories came to a stop and he just cried in his sister’s arms. He buried his face in her red scarf, the pain dulling minute by minute.

“Eren, what was that?” asked Mikasa, stroking Eren’s hair.

“I don’t know.” He closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing. The new memories went through his mind. “I don’t know.”

Eren stood from his curled ball on the floor and carefully gathered the photos and papers in his hands. He made his efforts to not touch the photographs in case the photos are what caused the memories. He escaped to his room after giving his sister a quick kiss on the cheek and a thank-you for comforting him.

Once he closed his door, the junior sat at his desk and looked at the photographs displayed in front of him. He held a hand over a photo and took a deep breath. Eren looked over his shoulder at the door, hoping that no one walked in or would try to come in. Releasing the deep breath, he put his hand down on the photo. It was the painting he hadn’t touched yet.

When there was no immediate reaction, Eren sighed. Only as he was about to take his hand off, the pain shot through his head. He clenched his teeth to stop from yelling out. He kept his hand pressed to the photograph so he could keep the memories going through his head. He could see the man laughing and smiling; he could see the sun shining on Rivaille just right; he could see their legs tangled in sheets while whispers were shared. There were some bad memories also. There were memories of fights and beatings and tears and lonely nights.

Once the pain was unbearable, Eren ripped his hand from the paper with tears running down his face. He rubbed his face and replayed the memories he had just received. Pulling out his laptop, Eren began to look up more about Rivaille and everything about him. He stayed up for hours, not falling asleep until the sun rose. The pain had ebbed away and he kept replaying the memories, trying to think of a way for them to have even existed.

“Eren, are you up?” Mikasa entered the room and shook her brother’s shoulder. He stirred and looked around. “Did you stay up all night?”

“Uh…”

She rolled her eyes then started grabbing clothes from his closet. “I don’t even want to know. Just get dressed and come have breakfast.”

Eren rubbed his nose with his finger, pulling it away covered in blood. Rubbing his nose and mouth, there was blood all over his face. The blood wasn’t completely dried so it must’ve had been during his “experiment”.

Eren went into the bathroom and cleaned his face before Mikasa saw all the blood. He changed into the new clothes and went back to his room to gather the papers together. He shoved his laptop into his bag and went downstairs while going over his new-found memories.

“Eren, please tell me you were not obsessing over those stupid paintings,” said Mikasa when Eren sat down at the table and began eating. “They are just paintings. Nothing more.”

Eren slammed his spoon down. “They are not _just_ paintings, Mikasa! How is it even possible that there are paintings of someone who looks _exactly_ like me?! Explain that, because it is oblivious to me.”

“It is just a coincidence, Eren. It happens sometimes,” she replied, taking a sip of her juice. “You can’t look too much into things like this. It’s nothing.”

Not listening to another word his adoptive sister said, the sixteen-year-old finished his breakfast and headed over to Armin’s house. When he pulled up in his blond friend’s driveway, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. There was a dull throb in his head when he pulled the memories back through his mind’s eye. While he ran through the movies in his head, he reminisced in the happiness that came with the thought of being with Rivaille or whoever he was.

A knock on the window startled the boy from his head. Eren looked to his left to see Armin standing there with his bag in his hand. Eren unlocked the car doors and lowered the window.

“Sorry, man,” he says, rubbing his eyes. The throb had grown from the little dull pulse to a drum being controlled by a drum line.

“What happened yesterday? You just ran out,” Armin asked as he got into the car. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know what happened.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I don’t know. I was really freaked out.”

Armin dug around in the dashboard to find a napkin then handed it to his friend. “Was it about the painter? Or the painting?”

“Yeah, it really freaked me out. How it’s possible, I have no clue.” Eren looked over at his friend and continued, “Will you help me try and figure everything out?”

“Of course, Eren,” Armin replied. “You are my best friend. It’s the least I can do.”

Eren smiled at his friend then started his car and drove off towards the school. When they arrive at Maria High, Eren was falling asleep. Armin was constantly shaking the boy to keep him awake and not crashing the car in the lot.

“Did you even sleep last night?” asked the blond, holding up the boy in his shoulders.

Eren shook his head. “I was up all night looking up stuff on the artist. I guess I forgot to sleep.”

Armin sighed and brought Eren back to the car. Pushing the junior into the back seat, the blond lowered the tinted windows and supported the boy’s head with his hoodie. Eren was unconscious the moment his head hit the hoodie pillow and that gave Armin a slight sense of peace. All he wanted was for his friend to be healthy and not killing himself over a project. The blond quietly closed the car doors and went into the high school.

As Armin walked down the hall, Mikasa ran up beside him with a look of worry on her face.

“Armin, where is Eren?” she asked, looking around. “I can’t find him anywhere.”

“He’s asleep in his car,” replied the sixteen-year-old.

Mikasa yanked his shoulder, pulling him to a stop. “What? You left him in his car asleep?”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I left the windows open. He was really tired and he was going to kill himself if he didn’t get sleep. He got a nosebleed.”

“A nosebleed? In the car?”

Armin shook his head. “It looked like from last night. He is looking bad, Mikasa. This thing is really getting to him and it’s only been a day. Have you talked to him about this?”

“I have tried and he keeps brushing it off,” she replied, picking up her normal speed again. “He refuses to listen to me. He keeps going on and on about reincarnation and how it isn’t just a coincidence that his face was the one that was painted.”

“What if it isn’t coincidence? What if there is such a thing as reincarnation?” wondered Armin, looking at the girl. “What if that _was_ Eren, years ago, and he was reincarnated to our friend today? Don’t you think that it is even a little bit possible?”

“It… it cannot be possible.” She shakes her head. “It is just too impossible.”

Armin sighed and stood in front of the door to his class. “Eren is fine and I am going to check on him during lunch. I’ll bring him some of my lunch so he has something to eat. I can handle this.”

Mikasa nods and sighs. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Okay, okay. I have to get to class. I will help you out with Eren during lunch. I have to speak to him.”

As the two went to class, more was happening behind Eren’s closed eyes. The last thing he remembered was being in his school’s parking lot and then he was in a field. There was a cloth he sat on with wheat swaying around him. The sun was warm on his skin and the air was crisp and clean.

“How is your wife?” he asked, the words just flowing from his tongue without control. Eren didn’t even know who he was talking to.

“I don’t want to talk about that, Caleb,” replied a voice from beside him. _Caleb?_ That definitely wasn’t Eren’s name, but it somehow felt like it belonged to him as if Eren was called that his whole life. “You know that I didn’t want to get married. People would get suspicious if I didn’t.”

“I just don’t like sharing you.” Eren looked to his left. There was Rivaille or whoever he was in this memory.

 The man smiled and leaned over, brushing the tip of his nose against Eren’s neck. “Mm, you aren’t. I am just putting on the show from the others.”

“Dominick,” Eren said. Somehow the name fit the man sitting next to him. “Why don’t we just run away?”

Dominick/Rivaille pulled away and looked at him; his cool gray eyes peering at him like an adult would look at a child that said they wanted to be a dragon.

“Where would we go, Caleb? It’s not like we can just go out and built ourselves a cottage. During the winter, we would freeze,” he replied, leaning back to his original laid-back position.

“We would leave during the spring, giving us enough time to get started on the cottage. We could have it done by the time harvest was over,” Eren suggested, pulling his knees up to his chest and looking up at the clouds. “No need to hide.”

Eren’s eyes fluttered open and sat up off the seat. Bones and joints cracked as he stretched his aching back. He looked down at what he had been resting his head on to be shocked at the red puddle that blossomed on the fabric. Frantically, Eren reached across the front seat and flipped the mirror down. The trail of blood that trickled down from his nose across his cheek was thick.

“Oh, no,” Eren muttered, digging through the dash for tissues. He tried to clean off the blood from the jacket he knew belonged to his blond friend. Once he rubbed off most of the liquid blood, he started to clean up his face. Once he cleaned all the dried, sticky blood from his face, he fell back onto the seat.

He rubbed his face, his head still pounding from the dream memory. Curling up on his side, he closes his eyes from exhaustion and ran through the dream in his head. Rivaille was Dominick and Eren was Caleb. It was something he would’ve seen or heard from the 1500’s. There was something from the dream that struck a nerve in Eren’s heart. “ _Where would we go? It’s not like we can just go out and build ourselves a cottage.”_

“He didn’t even try,” he mumbled, a tear slipping down his cheek. “He didn’t even try.”

The car door popped as it opened, making Eren jump. He arched his neck and looked up at his friend holding a tray of fries in his hand. He sat up and scooted over to make room for Armin.

“I’m sorry about your jacket.” Eren looked apologetically at his friend while holding the bloodied fabric in his hands.

“It’s okay,” Armin replied, handing the boy the fries. “Blood comes out.”

Eren ate two fries at a time while the blond watched, making sure Eren was okay.

“These nosebleeds aren’t normal.”

“Everyone gets nosebleeds,” Eren mumbled through a mouthful of food.

“This bad and twice in a row? No, Eren, that is not normal,” Armin replied, shaking his head. He ran his hand through blond locks then sighed. “Eren, what is going on? What is causing these nosebleeds?”

Eren swallowed his mouthful of fries, hesitant to tell his best friend about the memories. He chewed on his lip before deciding to confide in him. “I have been getting memories from the paintings.”

“What? Memories?” Armin’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Memories of past lives,” Eren explained. “Sometimes I touch photographs of the paintings and I get this really sharp pain in my head. It is the most blinding, agonizing pain you could ever feel. Then there are flashes of the guy, that painter, in my head. I get memories of being with him. There is no other way to explain it except that I… have been reincarnated.”

“Reincarnated…” Armin mused. “And you think this painter is your, like, soul mate?”

Eren looked at his friend. “I think so.”

 

 

**1872**

        Rivaille watched as his daughter ran around the room, her brother padding after her. Petra was in the kitchen washing the dishes from that night’s dinner. Despite two children, Rivaille felt lost. He was haunted every night with the boy he constantly needed to paint. He could never find the boy when he went looking, hope of finding him was high in his heart at the start and always gone when he got back home.

“Levi, you are raising suspicion upon yourself,” Petra hissed that night when Rivaille entered their room.

“And what makes you think that?” he snapped, looking at her with cold gray eyes.

“People are talking, Levi. They are talking and people are starting to notice your distaste in women,” she explained. She adjusted her nightcap over her blond - almost red – hair.

“What do you expect me to do, Petra? Strip you down in the middle of town square and treat you like every man treats his wife when they are alone?” Levi threw his glass across the room, the shatter awaking their son. The man instantly regretted wasting the alcohol like that. “I can’t help what I do involving the man. I have never experienced this before. I’ll get Mike. Go to bed.”

Levi sighed as he left the room and started towards his son Mike Zacharius’ room. He was halfway down the hall when a blinding pain shot through his brain. He gasped as he fell to his knees as images went through his head. The boy again was laughing, smiling, and crying. They were eating together, sleeping together, and lying together. Though the memories were pleasant, the pain brought tears to the man’s eyes. He clutched his head as the pain continued.

“Not again,” he groaned, the memories coming faster and faster through his mind. “Not now.”

He felt something wet drip down his face from his nose. Something warm trickled through Rivaille’s lips, tasting like iron. _My nose is bleeding,_ his mind registered through the images. _Caleb, Everett, Jacob, Kit._ Names run through his head. All different names to the same face.

Suddenly, the images stop and the pain began to dull. Levi slumped against the wall, the blood dripping from his chin drying. The pain from his head was gone, but there was a new pain. The pain was in his heart and he felt alone and lost. He felt like without the boy he was never going to be truly happy. But Rivaille knew that he wasn’t going to find the boy in this lifetime.

The man stood and went into his son’s room. He picked up his son and balanced the child on his hip. As he calmed the three-year-old, Rivaille recalled one name from the recent headache.

Once the boy had fallen asleep, Rivaille went into the drawing room and got out some paper and pen. Dipping the pen into the ink, the man started to write down the information and things he had seen in the memories or whatever they were. There was a date, a time, a place, names, and a picture. _March 30, 1996. 10:32 pm. Shiganshina. Kalura, Grisha,_ Eren _._

Rivaille got immediately to the drawing that went with the information he just uncovered. It was a teenage boy with the same teal-green eyes and floppy brown hair that the dream boy had. This stunned the man as he pushed the drawing back so he could look at it. He believed that he just predicted the birth of this teenage boy a hundred years ahead of time. This frightened Rivaille slightly.

Without another look at the drawing, he closed the notebook he kept all the memories and names in then shoved the book into the back of his bookshelf.

 

 

 

 

**2012**

        Eren sat at the library with Armin across from him, books open in front of them. Eren groaned and slammed his head down into the book’s pages in front of him.

“Eren, I don’t know exactly what you are looking for,” said the blond as he flipped through pages of a book on reincarnation.

“I just need an explanation,” cried the junior softly. He lifted his head from the book and began reading through the material.

As Armin and Eren continue their research, there were about five people in the library also. The boys continued going back for books and books on Rivaille and reincarnation. Armin was up and getting another book when there was a tap on Eren’s shoulder. He looked towards the person to see a woman standing there. She had walnut-colored hair in which she kept up in a messy ponytail and warm brown eyes that seemed to be full of adventure and excitement behind glasses. She was about Eren’s height and just full of energy.

“Are you Eren?” she asked, chewing on her lip.

Eren looked at her with confusion and caution. “…Yeah, I’m Eren.”

She pulled her bag from her side and began to dig through it. “My name is Hanji Zoë and I think I have something you need to see. Oh my god, this is impossible.” She pulled out a small notebook bound shut by a leather strap. She flipped through the pages and said, “This is my great-great-great-great-grandfather’s notebook. He was a famous painter and he apparently had dreams of this boy that he never knew. And I can let you borrow this for a while.”

She handed him the notebook open to a page with four lines and a drawing. On the page with the four lines were his birthday, year and all, his home town, and his name along with his parents.

“What the hell? Is this a joke?” he asked the woman, looking up at her. “How did you get that information?”

She smiled widely. “So it’s all true. You are Eren, born March thirtieth, 1996, at 10:32 pm in the town of Shiganshina to the parents of Kalura and Grisha. Amazing.”

Eren looked at the picture drawn on the page next to his information. There it was; a perfect sketch of Eren. The one thing that had been touched with color was his eyes. The striking teal-green stood out among the dark lines and pale paper. Eren looked up with his jaw on the floor.

“I think you need that notebook more than I do,” said Hanji, her eyes dancing with curiosity. She pulls a slip of paper from her pocket and scribbles something down on it. “Here is my number. Give me a call anytime if you ever need anything of my grandfather’s.”

She stood and continued to look at Eren like he was an alien and she wanted to dissect him. She began to walk away when Eren turned around and called her back.

“Do you have his paintings or are they all in museums?” he asked, twisting the number in his hand.

“We do have some that have never been released to the public,” she answered. She seemed to know he was going to ask that question.

“May I come with you to see them?”

“Sure.”

Eren gathered his things and quickly stood up from the table. He signals to Hanji that he needed one moment. He ran through the library to find Armin among books, his blond hair catching Eren’s attention to his presence.

“Hey, Armin,” Eren whispers while jumping up and down. “You will never guess who just came up to me.”

“Who?” asked his friend, closing the book he was holding.

“The, like, great-great-great-granddaughter of Rivaille,” replied the sixteen-year-old. “She has the notebook he had during this whole thing. He knew when I was born, Armin!”

“That could just be a coincidence or a lie,” replied the blond. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“It had the time, day and year I been born. It had the name of my parents!”

“Then it must be legit,” Armin commented, his crystal blue eyes wide with shock. Eren placed his car keys into his friend’s hand then turned and left.

He excitedly walked alongside Hanji as they got into her car and drove out of the library parking lot. Hanji talked through the whole ride to Eren about her grandfather and how her however many “great-” grandmother knew about the paintings and how Rivaille felt about said boy.

“He was depressed when he could’ve find… well, _you._ Per se,” she explains with an almost happy tone to it. “He gave up trying to find you and just kept trying to make a life of his kids, Mike Zacharius and Isabel Magnolia. Isabel was two years older than Mike. Unfortunately, Mike died of tuberculosis when he was in his twenties.

“Rivaille didn’t show much emotion to begin with, but he barely showed emotion to the death of his son. His wife, Petra, died when she was hit by a carriage and was pinned to a tree. The impact snapped her spine and killed her immediately. Levi was devastated by the death of Petra. Though she was his wife, he only cared for her as a sister or the only family he had,” Hanji continued. She pulled into the driveway of a large home that was about three stories and Victorian architecture. “Ready to see the paintings?”

Eren, who was just filled up with knowledge and history, nodded and exited the car. They walked into the home and Eren stopped in his tracks. He was in awe of the amazing architecture and décor. Hanji grabbed his arm then pulled him towards a basement, switching on the light. As they descended down the wooden stairs, Eren wondered if she really had paintings or just wanted to lock him up to discover what the hell is going on. Once they were able to see into the basement, there were shelves of wines and shelves of books. Hanji pulled the confused sixteen-year-old through the isles.

“To have a reincarnation in my house is so cool! I wonder what your story is,” she rambles as she pulls Eren through shelves of books. “You must have an amazing history to keep coming back again. Here it is!”

Hanji stops in front of a rack with paintings by the dozens hung on it. Eren picked a canvas off the rack and looked at it. It was him sitting in a meadow with the sun shining on his face. There was a peaceful sense to the painting. Putting it back, Eren picked another painting. This one involved Rivaille with Eren. They sat on a bench with Eren in Rivaille’s arms. It appeared that Rivaille had stolen a kiss from him and Eren didn’t seem to mind. Indistinctly, he reached up and touched his lips, feeling as if he had just been kissed.

“What are you feeling? Are there flashbacks, feelings?” Hanji asked as she watched with excitement.

Eren reached out and touched the couple captured by the paint, only to be hit immediately hit with the pain that can only be associated with the memories. He fell to the floor, the painting landing on the ground. He cried out and clutched his head. Hanji supported his head as he fell to his side.

“Eren, calm down. What are you seeing right now?” asked Hanji as the sixteen-year-old writhed in pain.

The memories kept coming and the pain grew. He clenched his head, hoping the tighter he held on the faster the pain would leave. Hanji holding onto Eren seemed to make it worse. She was connected to him by blood and that brought the memories faster and more intense than ever. He could see that there was Levi holding a little girl that had the same dark hair as him with the woman… The woman’s eyes were the only real thing that stood out of the child that didn’t belong to Levi. There were jumbles of voices overlapping in Eren’s head.

Eventually, it all came to a stop and the pain dulled as Eren curled up in Hanji’s lap. He brushed the tears from his eyes then desperately searched his face for any blood. When he found none, he relaxed to numb the pain. Hanji was obviously excited about what just occurred but held back because he was still in pain. Unlike the woman, Eren was exhausted.

“I’ll go and make us some tea, how about that?” Hanji suggested. She stood and started back upstairs, leaving Eren to clean up his face. He pulled out a napkin from his backpack he kept in there from some restaurant and blew his nose.

He pulled his knees to his chest and tried to calm his breathing. There was a pain in his heart from the child he had seen. The child reminded Eren of what prevented the two from being happy.  After a little while, Hanji came back to the basement with a tray in her hands. She carefully sat next to him and handed him a warm cup of tea that soothed Eren’s nerves more than he expected. She leaned against the wall and took the painting Eren had into her hands. There was the sound of something coming down the wooden stairs to the basement when two dogs emerged and ran to Hanji.

“This is Sonny and Bean,” she said, rubbing their heads as she introduced them. “They are my babies. Now, what did you see in this flashback?”

Eren ran a finger around the ring of the cup. “I saw Rivaille or Levi. We were in bedrooms, kitchens, fields, by streams or rivers. We were just everywhere. There was a kid.”

Hanji’s eyes lit up as he spoke. “A kid? What did they look like?”

“It was a girl. She had dark hair like Rivaille’s and same face as him except for a few things, like her eyes, from someone else. I assume it was her mother. He was holding her and I felt… _sad_ ,” he answered. “I felt like it was the child that kept us apart, from us being truly happy. He tells me…” Eren thought hard, trying to sort out the voices he heard. “…he tells me that he had to do it. He had to do it so they wouldn’t notice how he was…”

“Ah, I see,” she mused, leaning closer to Eren. “I would love to find out more about these memories you are having. Then maybe we can have you t-”

Before Hanji could finish stating her ideas for her experiment, Eren’s phone rang and cut her off. Taking a long drag of tea, Eren reached in his pocket and looked at the screen. His beloved sister’s face popped up giving Eren the guilty feeling of not telling her where he was going to be. He answered the phone and Mikasa went about her scolding of Eren running off with a complete stranger.

“I know, Mikasa, I’m sorry,” Eren repeated over and over again. Eventually she calmed down and asked where he was. He told her about Hanji and about paintings that Rivaille painted that were never released to museums. He heard the doubt in her voice that he knew anyone would feel, how he _felt,_ at the beginning of all of this.

She told him that their father was going on another trip so he had to come home. He told her he loved her and hung up the phone, finishing the last of his tea.

“I have to go home,” he said as he stood up from the floor. “Thank you, Miss Hanji, for the tea and the, uh, paintings.”

She smiles and nods. “It was no problem. I am very grateful for you coming here and allowing me to see that,” she said as she took the cup from Eren’s hands. “Would you like to keep that?”

Eren looked down at the painting of the two men on the bench. He felt its weight in his hands, the paint glistening lightly in the light of the basement. He held his hand over the artificial couple, wishing he could touch it. When words wouldn’t come out of his mouth, all Eren could do was nod with tears prickling in his eyes. Now he could see something that was proof of what he was seeing. He ran over to Hanji and took her into a tight hug.

“Oh! Thank you, Eren,” she said as she hugged him back. The doorbell rang, bringing the hug to an end. After thanking the woman for the tea and the painting, Eren went upstairs to find a tired-looking Mikasa.


	2. Chapter 2

**1877**

 

       Rivaille ran down the street, nearing the crowd that had gathered just outside of town. He could see the horses that drew Petra's carriage, ones she specifically picked out, tied up to a nearby store. There was mutterings of a woman against a tree, a woman dead. His heartbeat picked up in fear of losing the woman he held close despite the boy from the dreams. He shoved people out of his way, pushing through to an open area that surrounded the fallen carriage.  _Where is she? Where is she?_ Rivaille looked around and his eyes came upon the blond head. He slowly walked around to see his wife.

Her back arched backwards from the impact of the carriage. There was just red everywhere, all over the tree and the dirt. He looked at her face, seeing the fear that had she felt covered in blood. Her youthful face dripped in her life's blood. The wind blew her hair slightly, making it sway. Though the crowd had quieted, the only sound that Rivaille could hear was the sound of his heart breaking. She may have never been a romantic love, but he loved her immensely.

"I'm sorry this happened."

The man looked at his commander from his time in the military, Erwin Smith. Rivaille turned away from Erwin and his wife's body. He couldn't stand to look at her anymore. The coroner walked over to him and asked him about what they should do about Petra.

"Clean her. We will have a funeral in the morning."

What the world couldn't see was that Rivaille didn't want a funeral, he didn't want a burial. He knew that eventually she would have been taken from him like everyone else was. He just didn't want to say goodbye.

 

 

 

**2012**

 

       Eren fidgeted with the straw that stuck out of his drink as he sat at a table in the local Titan's Cafe. The teen was exhausted and had a terrible headache. With no luck in finding out anything that could answer Eren's questions, he just decided to give up for the time being. He was just sipping his drink when there was a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Hey, Eren! How's it going?"

He turned to see a buzz-cut Connie and an ever-eating Sasha. He gave the two a quick and tired smile before returning his attention back to his drink. The two circled around and sat across from him, looking him over like he was an alien.  _Maybe I am,_ Eren thought with a small smirk.

"What's going on with you?" Sasha asked around a mouthful of potato chips.

"Just tired," Eren muttered, scooping up some whipped cream from his drink and sucking it off his finger.

"I can tell. You have been sleeping more in class than usual. What have you been up doing? Surely you don't have a girlfriend because then you would be tired  _and_ happy," Connie replied, laughing loudly.

Eren looked at the boy when he saw something behind Connie and Sasha. There was a flash of dark hair that was short on the bottom and longer on top. The same haircut that Rivaille had. He quickly looked around Sasha to get another look, to see if it was really who he thought he saw. What hope he had when he first saw the man disappeared when the man wasn't him. The bitter disappointment Eren felt when the man was just an ordinary person bit his heart with a fierce snap. Connie and Sasha noticed his sudden search and turned around to look at the same man Eren did.

"Oh ho ho!" Sasha laughed. "You play for that team! That explains everything."

Eren's brows furrowed. "Huh? Explains what?"

Connie looked at his friend and they both snickered then broke out into laughter.

"You're gay," Connie stated with a wide grin. Eren gaped at the two who giggled at his reaction. He didn't know exactly what he was, but it was a shock to himself to hear it from a third party. They got up from their seats and left, but not without making a joke about Eren. After a moment of thinking about it, the teen threw away his drink and went for a walk through the city.

Eren looked at strangers' faces, studying the characteristics of different individuals. Just as he passed a couple people, there was the flash of Rivaille's face. He whipped around and caught the shoulder of who he thought he saw. He turned the man around, hoping he was him.

"What the hell?" The man wasn't Rivaille and he was pissed about a stranger manhandling him.

Eren let go of the shoulder and backed away. "Sorry. I thought you were someone else."

 _Get a hold of yourself, Jaeger. You need some sleep,_ he thought as he walked back towards his home. He was stumbling as he walked, exhaustion getting the best of him. He kept seeing the face of Rivaille on strangers, the image taunting him. Eren swore he would find him, even if it killed him.

 

 

 

**A Few Months Later, 2013**

 

 "Eren, please. You have been at this for months," Armin begged, closing the book in front of his friend. "I think you should just leave it be."

"Why do you keep doing that?" Eren asked, taking the book back from the blond. "Why do you keep stopping me like this? Don't you want me to find him?"

Armin's blue eyes looked at Eren with worry and sadness. "Of course, I want you to find him. He is your soul mate, after all. I just don't like you beating yourself over it and killing yourself."

Eren rolled his eyes and went back to looking through the book. Mikasa sat next to him with her hand clutching the red scarf she kept around her neck. She never said anything about the reincarnation because she didn't want to upset Eren further so she just kept quiet as Armin tried to talk Eren out of his project once again.

"Please, Eren, you are my best friend. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Eren frowned and stood up from the cafe table, shoving his books back into his bag. He didn't want to hear this anymore. Tossing the bag over his shoulder, Eren turned to leave the cafe when he falls backwards. He had bumped into someone and, at the contact with the other body, a painful strike goes through his head and there was the quick flash of Rivaille smiling. He was about to yell at the person until he saw the man's face. Eren's jaw dropped at the sight of Rivaille in front of him.

His face scrunched in pain, the handsome features going from bored to pissed off. Eren couldn't believe his eyes. The man glared down at the teen and looked down at his ruffled shirt.

"You fucking brat," swore the man, adjusting the fabric to its original state.

"You..." whispered the teen, staring wide-eyed.

Armin and Mikasa had jumped up from their seats, both stopping at the sight of the man walking through the door. Mikasa helped Eren up while glaring at the man that shoved her brother down. The man was a spitting image of Rivaille, though the height is a little off. He was shorter than Eren by at least two or three inches. The man's dark hair was parted neatly down the middle, not a hair out of place. Around his neck was a slightly ruffled cravat that seemed a little stuck-up.

"Don't fucking do that again, kid," said the man, kicking Eren probably not as hard as he'd like to with his boot.

"Please tell me you recognize me," Eren begged, leaning against his sister for support.

The man hesitated, giving Eren the answer he wanted. He knew the man recognized him and it made his heart leap. All the work he had done paid off, one way or another. He felt his lips pull up in a small smile, earning a scoff from the doppelganger.

"No, I don't."

That struck Eren down, but he refused to leave the cafe without getting somewhere with the man he had been searching for. He leaped out of Mikasa's hold on him and quickly grabbed the man's hand. He held onto the man's hand as he tried to pull away. Eren watched as the man grabbed his head, probably experiencing what he did when he touched paintings or Hanji.

"What are you seeing?" Eren asked, hoping the man would answer correctly.

"Who the hell are you?" But they both knew the answer.

 

 

 

 

**1623**

 

       Kit gripped his wool blanket tighter around his shoulders. His teal eyes looked over the water as the ship rocked back and forth across the murky waters of the Atlantic Ocean. He looked to his right to see members of his family shivering in a group.  _I know it's a new country, but we should not be going to it if we are going to die on the way there,_ he thought before joining the others.

"When are we going to get there? It has been a week and a half," he complained to his mother, wrapping his blanket around her.

"B-Be pa-tient,  Kit," she stutters. He could hear the chattering of her teeth as she shivered. "We w-will b-be there soon. T-They said it w-would be over a month."

"W-We won't have a month if you don't get better." And as if on cue, his mother gave a hacking cough, one that shook her body. When she tried to give him his blanket back, Kit just tied it around her more. "You need to keep warm if you want to get better, Mama."

She gave him a reassuring smile, trying to hold in another body-shaking cough. Her son wound his arms around her and tried to warm her further with his body heat. No matter what he tried to do, he knew she wasn't going to make it to America. As he held on with all his might, Kit could see a soldier named Matthew watch him with cool gray eyes. After he brought his mother below deck and wrapped her in as many blankets as he was allowed to have, the nineteen-year-old sneaked back up to the top deck to meet with the soldier.

Every time they touched, Kit would see himself with Matthew from past lives. They always made their way back to each other somehow. He made his way past other guards. He didn't want to fight today; he just wanted to lay with Matthew until the sun came back up at dawn. He had just made it back up to the deck when he saw the soldier surrounded by the edge of the ship, being pushed closer and closer to the railing.

"So, Matthew, I heard you don't have a wife," another soldier said, the gun clinking against his back. "Why don't you have one?"

"Don't want one."

The soldiers laughed at some unspoken joke. Kit wanted to go out there and pull his partner back to the soldier's room, but he was forced to sit back and watch.

"You don't want a wife? I would say it is because of that poor boy you have been sneaking around with," replied another, hitting the man next to him on the shoulder. "What's his name, Matthew? Just tell us his name. We sure would like to meet him."

"I am not seeing anyone," Matthew snapped, his normally bored tone now angry. "Even if I was, I would never tell you his name."

"So you are one of the homosexuals. Well, it is only fair we give you the proper treatment as the others get."

Just then, the first man took a swing. One after another, the group of men started to beat Matthew and they did not hold back on anything. Kit wanted to yell out, to stop them, but no words left his lips. He watched in horror as they kicked and beat the fellow soldier. Soon they stop and walk away, leaving a bleeding Matthew to lie there on the ground. Once they were gone, Kit carried the soldier back to his room and dressed his wounds. He cleaned the blood from his lover's face and made sure that he was still asleep when he sneaked out. He walked down the hall towards the lounge when he found the room where the three men were sitting around with a bottle of alcohol they passed around. He knocked on the door and it was answered by one man who looked down at him like he was seven years old.

"Did you get lost, kid?" he asked, clearly drunk.

"Yes, I am very lost," replied Kit. Without another word, he pulled his hand out from behind his back and slit the man's throat. He watched with no emotion as the soldier dropped to the floor. The second got up in worry and anger then came at Kit. With a scream, the teen tackled the man to the floor then began to stab him repeatedly in the chest. He just kept stabbing and stabbing, not stopping despite the blood that began to splatter on him. After a few minutes, he stopped and took deep breaths. He looked down at the bloodied man in front of him.

"What the hell? You little..."

The third soldier came at Kit with his hands raised, giving him little time to grab his knife. The man's hands clutch Kit's throat, squeezing and squeezing until black spots began to appear in his vision. As he struggled to catch his breath, he flailed his legs around with hope in them coming in contact with something. Eventually his foot sends a blow hard enough to make the hands release him and he dropped to the floor. He quickly scrambled for the knife, plunging it deep into the man's back. As the man fell, Kit caught his breath and rose to his feet.

"You bastards didn't deserve to be called human."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be slight spoilers of Chapter 56 of the manga in this chapter. Sorry for not updating recently. My depression has been really bad and I have been caught up in DMMd. I hope you enjoy!

**2013**

 

       Eren sat with Mikasa and Armin by his side, staring at the man in front of them. Levi had been drinking a cup of tea while they tried to process what the situation. Mikasa glared at Levi, probably for the fact he knocked Eren to the floor and kicked him. Armin, on the other hand, looked at him in wonder. Levi had dark hair that was neatly parted down the middle, not a stand out of place. He had cold gray eyes that seemed to show a wall he built up.

"If you are going to fucking stare, get a camera. It'll last longer," he snapped, lifting the cup to take a sip.

"You are going to spill it like that," Eren said, ignoring the comment about his staring. 

Levi raised a brow at him questioningly. "I have been drinking like this my entire fucking life. I think I can handle another day without spilling shit on me."

"How are you even real?" Eren asked, narrowing his eyes as if to make sure they weren't playing tricks on him.

"Well, my father fucked my mother and here I am," Levi answered sarcastically.

Mikasa started to move forward, but Eren held her back. She curled her lip in disgust. "We don't need your sass. We are just trying to figure this out."

"And here I thought you wanted my autograph," Levi replied with the same bored look. "I don't know what the hell is going on and I don't want to know. You are just some kid who is confused."

Eren clenched his jaw. He was  _not_ confused. He had found him and he knew there was a reason behind it. He clasped his hands together as a way of calming down, taking a deep breath. Armin looked at him worriedly and Mikasa continued to glare at Levi. Eren bumped his sister with his hip, signalling for her to get up so he could get out.

"I am not confused."

Eren turned on his heel and walked out of the cafe, angry and upset over Levi's reaction to everything.  _How could he just pass it off like that? He_ has  _to know that this doesn't happen every day and, for some reason, it happened to them._ Eren ran all the way home, not caring if Mikasa or Armin was behind him.

 

Levi

Levi watched the kid run down the street, running a finger around the lip of the cup. He watched as the girl gave him a sneer and ran off after him. The blond stayed behind, warily coming back over to the table where Levi sat.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this, but this means a lot to him. He has been slaving over this for months without stopping even though Mikasa and I tried," the teen said, fidgeting with his hands. "I just thought I would tell you that this is really important to him, even if it isn't to you. Just maybe give him what he wants. Just this once and it'll be up to you whether or not you see him again. I'm sorry for bothering you."

Levi watched as he slid a piece of paper over to him before turning and making his escape out the door. He picked up the paper and unfolded it to find a slightly messy handwritten list of numbers. There were the names Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. He looked out the window to see the flash of blond disappearing into the crowd then back down at the paper. He tucked it into his pocket before finishing the cup of tea, hoping it would help with the throb in his head.

He had no idea how just touching the kid made his head hurt and sent images through his mind, but he couldn't deny it happened. He didn't know what they were and it scared him. He didn't like what he didn't know. He walked out of the cafe, tossing a small tip onto the table and left towards the one person he knew that would love to hear about it. He went right into the home, sighing as he heard the bark of the two dogs.

"You home? Because if you're not, I'm gonna kill these fucking bastards if they get any hair on me," Levi called out and he pushed away one of them with his boot.

"You wouldn't dare," came the reply. The woman flew down the stairs and picked him up, making him flail.

"Put me down, Shitty Glasses!" he hissed, hitting her hands. "I came over here to talk to you about something, but now I am going to leave."

Hanji laughed and set the man down, pulling him to her by his shoulders. "Ooh! You will never believe who I met at the library a while ago."

Levi looked up at her with a grimace. "Don't tell me it was a teenager with the messiest brown hair."

She gasped and hit his shoulder. "You ruined the surprise. It's the kid you were talking about! Where did you see him? Did anything happen? Anything memories?"

Levi narrowed his eyes and straightened his jacket, fixing his hair into the neat state it was before he got there. He replayed the flash of the kid through his head when he touched him. His phone felt heavy in his pocket along with the slip of paper.

"I just saw.. him," he answered, shifting in his seat. "I just saw the kid."

Hanji giggled and then grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him. “Can I test something out with you?”

"No. You are not going to fucking experiment on me." He shook his head rapidly. "Absolutely not."

"Pleeeeaaaase, Levi!" she begged, grinning widely. "Just this once? Well, maybe another time again, but just this once!"

Levi narrowed his eyes at her. “What about you fucking experiment on the kid? I am sure he will be down for it.” He winced as she yanked him into a hug. “Let go of me, Glasses!”

"What if you help? You could help and I wouldn’t be testing on you directly," Hanji suggested as she jumped up from her chair and went over, grabbing a pad of paper and a pen. She started to excitedly scribble down what Levi only knew to be her experiment plans. He licked his lips, contemplating whether or not to go through with it.

"Yeah, right. You are lying so far out of your ass there is shit in your teeth."

"Please!!"

Levi narrowed his eyes at her and didn't reply. She threw her hands up and yelled, “Yes! Could he come over today?”

"That is up to the brat, not me. I’m not his fucking mother," Levi answered. He stood up and took the slip of paper from his pocket. "I’ll call him and ask, but don’t be fucking upset if he says he can’t."

The dark-haired man walked out onto the patio, dialing the scrawled number into his phone. He brought it up to his ear and paced as he listened to the ringing. “Pick up, fucking brat.” When there was no answer, he dialed the number again and, finally, got an answer. “When I call you, I expect you to answer.”

"Wait.. are you-" the boy stuttered. "How did you-"

"That little blond kid gave me a list of numbers. Now, do you fucking want to come over so Hanji can test shit on you or not?" Levi replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Y-Yeah, sure. Now?" answered the kid.

"Well, definitely not yesterday. Are you coming or not?"

There was a slight mumble of a female voice in the background with a male reply. After a minute of waiting and Levi checking his watch, the kid finally answered that he was on his way. Levi hung up and turned around to see Hanji jumping around in glee.

"Fucking finally! An experiment. I haven't had a good one in a while." Hanji grinned from behind her glasses, rubbing her hands together. "This is going to be fun."

 

Eren

Eren pulled into the driveway of Hanji's home, thirty minutes after the call he received from Levi. He gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath. He got out with his head spinning in a million directions. When he got up to the door, Eren raised his hand to knock on the polished wood. He nearly fell backwards when it flew open and in front of him stood Hanji with an almost crazy look in her eyes.

"Inside now," she said as she took his arm and dragged him inside. "Let's get this started, shall we?"

When Hanji pulled Eren into the living room, he almost tripped into Levi again and he cleared his throat nervously. Hanji got a notebook and a pencil, tucking it behind her ear. She dragged him closer to the man who looked like he wished he was somewhere else. He took a step back, distancing himself so he didn't accidentally irritate him too much.

"Now, we are going to take this step by step." Hanji took her pencil in her hand. "Take his hand."

Eren looked at her, agape. "What?! No!"

"Just take his hand. We are going to see what happens."

She nearly shook with excitement. Eren shook his head again when Levi rolled his eyes and took the other's hand in his. They sat there for a moment, not a single memory or an ache. Hanji scribbled something down in her notebook before looking back at them. She asked them if they touched hands before and Eren confirmed they had earlier that day. She nodded and wrote something down again. Then she told Levi to touch Eren's arm and prepared her pencil for writing. Levi did as he was told with an angry curl of his lip and held his hand there. The pain was not as bad as it was when they first touched, but it still hurt like hell. Eren could see his arm being touched, pulled and kissed. It was like earlier with his hand. He saw the smile and their hands together.

"What do you see?" Hanji asked us both. Eren didn't know what Levi was seeing, but he kind of hoped he was seeing the same thing. He explained the caresses he remembered, feeling a slight wetness in his nose. There was the sound of the pencil scribbling and a giggle. "Okay, you can let go now, Levi."

Eren felt woozy, but doesn't mention it. He opened his eyes and he could see the blurry figures of Levi and Hanji. His hand flew out and hit the wall, giving him some slight support. He took in big gulps of air, hoping to calm his heartbeat.

"Eren, I need you to touch Levi's face," Hanji told him, pushing her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose.

"Wha-"

Levi rolled his eyes at the woman. "You are getting too much of a kick out of this, shitty glasses."

Hanji scrunched her nose at him, playfully hitting his arm. "C'mon! It'll be fine. I promise I won't let anything happen. Just let him touch your face."

Eren raised his hand slowly, as if he was testing the waters of the subject. Levi huffed out a sigh and took a step forward, turning his face slightly to the side to expose his cheek. The brunette took a deep breath and gently placed his palm on the swell of the man's cheek. His breath caught in his throat as the pain started again and he saw himself caressing the cheek and pinching it and kissing it. He could see himself wiping tears from them and turning his face back to his own. The wetness that he felt in his nose grew as each second passed on, soon falling down his lips. He could hear someone faintly calling his name.  _What even is my name?_ Eren felt his body sway and there were dark figures standing in front of him before he fell to the ground.


End file.
